


Stiles and the Sourwolf

by Beyondspareoom



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beyondspareoom/pseuds/Beyondspareoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles' best friend tries to take a flower from the wrong garden Stiles' life takes some turns he never expected. That isn't necessarily a bad thing.</p><p> </p><p>Or </p><p>In which Stiles makes a kickass Belle and the author takes some creative liberties with the plot of Beauty and the Beast</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles pulled his cloak closer as he made his way through the creepiest section of forest he'd ever seen in his life. It was like this was where the happy parts of the forest came to die, Stiles thought with a grimace. He'd heard more than one gruesome story about this part of the forest, but despite every single one of his survival instincts telling him to turn around and run he had to keep going. It was his fault Scott was even out here to begin with, and he couldn't just leave him behind. Just as he began to question his idea to come this deep into the forest alone (where there were mountain lions, and bears and  _wolves_ ) he saw a large castle looming before him. With the way it looked Stiles thought it was a wonder the thing was even still standing. It looked half burnt and more than a little creepy (it made the forest around it feel downright cozy.)

It also had a large piece of Scott's cloak caught in it's gate.

Sighing and once again wondering at his life choices Stiles made his way toward the creepy as fuck castle hoping that Scott had just thought it was a good place to find refuge from the predators of the forest. The massive doors creaked open under Stiles' hands as he peered around curiously. The inside looked better than the outside, but that wasn't saying much really. The smell of burnt wood seemed to linger in the air, and Stiles wrinkled his nose; better to get out of here as fast as possible. "Scott?" Stiles called out into the old castle, his words echoing slightly. Just out of the corner of his eye Stiles thought he saw something move, and he spun around to face it. Nothing but an old footrest was there though, and Stiles wondered if it had just been his mind playing tricks on him. "Hello?" he questioned, just to be safe. "Is anybody there? I'm looking for my friend." He explained, twisting and turning as moved, trying to keep his eyes everywhere at once. Moving further into the castle Stiles wondered if maybe he'd made a mistake. Maybe Scott had gotten as freaked by this place as he was getting and had made a run for it. Maybe he was already back in town, sitting in the tavern and mooning over Allison Argent. Scott was kind of ridiculously in love with Allison, and it would have been a lot more amusing if Stiles didn't have to hear about it  _all the time._ Suddenly Stiles' attention was draw to what sounded something like a pained moan. "Scott?!" Stiles called, his voice taking on an edge of panic as he rushed toward the sound.

Stiles froze the minute he saw his friend, curled up on a pile of hay and behind bars. "Scott!" Stiles cried as he ran to his friend.

He looked delirious, and Stiles recognized the signs of a fever when he saw them. He'd sat with his mother through of enough of them to know. "Stiles?" he croaked weakly. He sounded like he needed water, and Stiles dug through his satchel for his water pouch. "Stiles you need to get out of here! Before he comes back!" The delirium had given way to an edge of panic, and Stiles realized someone had to have put Scott in this cell. 

"I'm not leaving you here." Stiles said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Scott had been his best friend for longer than he could remember, he  _wasn't_  going to just leave him behind.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?!" an angry voice demanded behind him and Stiles whipped around to face whoever it was. Glowing blue eyes stared back at him from the darkness, and Stiles his heart raced.

"Oh, um, hi. This most be your house right? Nice place, really, very... rustic. I was just looking for my friend here, and now that I've found him we'll just be on our merry way.  Get out of your hair and all, sorry to bother you." Stiles babbled trying to hide his mounting terror. Who ever,  _what ever_ , this guy was his eyes were fucking  _glowing._ Like candle lights in the darkness and there was nothing normal or safe about that. Plus if this was the guy that had locked Scott up he already didn't like him.

"He isn't going anywhere." Mr.scary-glowing-blue-eyes growled and Stiles so wished he'd brought a weapon or something. Not that he was particularly  _good_  with any weapons; he was a thinker, not a hunter (something he'd been mocked about enough times by guys like Jackson Whitmore.) He should have brought Allison with him. Allison was good with a bow, better than any of the men in their village (and he kind of loved her for that fact alone, seeing Jackson get out shot by a girl had been pretty spectacular) and seemed to actual return Scott's ridiculous affections. She'd have totally come help him. "He's a thief, he stole from my gardens."

"I didn't know." Scott protested weakly behind him, and Stiles resisted the urge to slam his head against his hand. He could just imagine Scott grabbing some pretty flower, nothing but Allison on his mind with no regard for the consequences of his actions. 

"That doesn't matter!" Growly rumbled.

Stiles knew Scott, had known him since childhood, and more importantly he knew Scott's heath. If they didn't get him back to the village soon he wouldn't make it through the night. Stiles thought of his mother, thought of watching her slip away day by day. He remembered how helpless he'd felt then, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

But he could stop this.

"What if I take his place?" The words were out of Stiles mouth before he could give it another thought, but he wouldn't have taken them back even if he could. Scott would die if he didn't do something and it wasn't like there were a whole lot of options here.

"Stiles, no!"

His question seemed to give scary-blue-eyes pause. "You would do that?" he questioned, a tone to his voice that Stiles couldn't quite pin. "If you did you would be my prisoner. Forever." If Stiles didn't know better he'd almost think the man was cautioning him against it, and the absurdity of that almost made him want to laugh. The feeling was quickly squashed though as he thought about the implications of  _forever_. He'd never see his dad again and that thought alone made his chest ache.

His dad would be all alone then. No one would be there to make sure he ate right, or make sure the house stayed kept, or that he didn't drink too much, and it almost made Stiles reconsider. But then he thought about Scott. About Mrs.McCall not even being able to bury her son, he thought of Allison and the way she smiled at Scott, smiles that spoke of things like marriage and children and a future. At least his dad would know he was alive, he reasoned, and just because he agreed now didn't mean he couldn't try to escape later.

"I'll do it." Stiles agreed, with a conviction he was only half faking. He ignored Scott's weak protests, the fever already beginning to take its toll on Scott's strength. "Just promise me he'll get back to the village by night fall, he needs medicine." 

"Done."

Stiles swallowed hard, his fate sealed. "Look after my dad Scott!" he called as Scott was being carried away by what looked to be living statues (and Stiles would be freaking out about  _that_  later he was sure, when he didn't feel so numb.) It was only then that the man he'd signed away the rest of his life to came into the light and Stiles was shocked to realize he wasn't a man at all; he was a _giant wolf._

A giant wolf that could apparently stand on two legs.

And talk.

Oh God what had Stiles done.

\----

"I can't believe you wanted me to cut off your arm." Stiles grumbled as he bandaged the Sourwolf (he still hadn't managed to get a name out of mister tall, dark and furry so that was what he'd taken to calling him) up. It was amazing how much could change in a week. When Stiles had traded himself for Scott he'd thought he was going to be spending the rest of his life in that cell, but instead he'd been brought to an actual room (that was mostly not burnt, an impressive feat in this castle he'd found, and bigger than their sitting room at home) realized that the furniture seemed to be _alive_ , and most surprising of all had his life saved by his big old Sourwolf. 

"The poison would have killed me." he grumbled right back.

"And the blood loss wouldn't have?" Stiles retorted, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue at the wolf. "Dude you're just lucky I found the antidote in time." And part of Stiles wondered at that. Sourwolf had stopped the other (normal) wolves that had been chasing Stiles down after his impromptu escape attempt pretty soundly. It was only after the fight with wolves when he'd gotten his arm caught in some kind of trap (it didn't look like any hunter's trap that Stiles had ever seen before, but then again he didn't know that much about hunting) that he'd even seemed to be in any real pain. It would have been easy to run away then, Sourwolf caught in that trap, and the rest of the predators of the forest scared off. He would have just had to make a run for it, and then he could have been home (back to his dad) before the dawn broke. Even after he'd helped drag Sourwolf back to the castle he could have gotten away. Sourwolf had been barely strong enough to stand, let alone try to chase Stiles down. Stiles could have walked out then with no resistance.

Except...except Sourwolf had gotten hurt saving  _his_  life. Even after he'd broken the one actual rule that had been set for him (and okay anyone who knew him could have seen that one coming, you didn't just tell him he could go anywhere except  _one_  place and really expect him not to make it the top of his 'to visit' list. He hadn't even managed to see anything that would make the wing forrbidden before Sourwolf had caught him and slammed him against a wall,) broken his promise and tried to run away Sourwolf had still come to save him. Maybe there was something wrong with Stiles, but he couldn't just leave Sourwolf to die after that. It just didn't seem right.

It was mostly luck that he'd been able to find the right plant and get it back in time to stop the poison. It had been risky, but still a way better plan than Sourwolf's original idea. Most plans would have been better than Sourwolf's plan given that it had pretty much boiled down to Stiles sawing off Sourwolf's arm and hoping for the best. Yeah, no, that was so far from a good plan it sounded like something Scott would come up with.

"Thanks by the way," Stiles said, quietly, dabbing at the cuts on Sourwolf's arm with a warm washcloth. He was healing at a ridiculous rate, but Stiles still felt better making sure his wounds had been cleaned properly. "for saving me. You're maybe not quite as completely terrifying as I thought Sourwolf."

He was silent for a while and Stiles wondered if he'd even heard him. Then again Sourwolf didn't really talk much Stiles had found, so it wasn't that strange. "Derek." Sourwolf said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Okay so maybe he didn't speak a lot because he was just really  _bad_  at it.

"My name is Derek."

Stiles blinked, and then blinked again for good measure. The name sounded so ...normal. It wasn't exactly what Stiles would have guessed (and he'd done a lot of guessing) for the name of a giant wolf man creature thing, but somehow, strangely enough, it . . . fit. If Stiles didn't know better (and he was starting to think he  _didn't_ ) he'd have said Derek look almost uncomfortable after his admission.

"Well that's a way better name than Genin." Stiles said with a wide smile, trying to defuse the tension. "Seriously, most people can't even pronounce that, I have no idea what my parents had been thinking. You lucked out man."  _Derek_ (and he was so going to be abusing name privileges now) just blinked at him. Stiles thought his eyes looked greener than normal.


	2. Chapter 2

After the wolf trap incident things were different, not drastically so, but still different. Derek (and Stiles still wasn’t over the fact that tall, dark, and furry actually had a name) still didn’t say much that wasn’t growled, and he still wore a scowl like his face was stuck that way, but now at least Stiles knew Derek wouldn’t actually kill him for his smartass comments. Lucky for Stiles since he now had conclusive proof he couldn’t shut up to save his own life. So really all things considered saving each other’s lives didn’t change much; it was a comment about Derek’s eyes that changed everything.

“What did you just say?” Derek growled, looming over Stiles.

“Dude chill! I just asked if your eyes were supposed to change color like that! Don’t eat me!” His back ached which wasn’t surprising considering that Derek had just slammed him up against a wall.

“What color?” he growled, and there was something desperate lurking beneath the surface of his words that Stiles had never heard before.

“Green, just normal green.” And that was the strangest part because it _had_ been normal green. Usually Derek’s eyes glowed ridiculously blue, literally _glowed_ like candle light, but when they’d turned green for a few short moments they’d been normal, _human_ , green. “Can you let me go now, please?”

Derek dropped him like he’d been burned, and looked at his hands (paws?) like he’d had no idea he’d been holding Stiles against the wall. Despite himself Stiles felt concerned for Derek; the guy looked more freaked out then when he’d been _dying_ , slowly and painfully, whatever this was must have really had him off balance. “Derek? Are you okay sourwolf? I mean it’s not a big deal right? Sure your blues are awesome, but I mean green isn’t bad either right?” Apparently Stiles sucked at the whole calming, and comforting thing.

Derek growled (was that a good growl or a bad growl?) “I’m not worried!”

“Well you could have fooled me.”

“What was I doing when my eyes changed?” Derek demanded as if Stiles hadn’t said anything.

“Um,” Stiles thought hard, they’d been having dinner at the time. Stiles had been going on about something and Derek had been ignoring him as far as Stiles could tell when he’d noticed that Derek’s eyes were playing musical colors. “Eating?” he offered uncertainly.

Stiles was starting to wonder if Derek could do anything besides growl. “That can’t be all.” He sounded frustrated, and Stiles’ curiosity was piqued. 

“Okay how about explaining why this is so important? You aren’t dying again are you? Are you going to try to make me cut off your arm again because if you are the answer is still no.” Derek raised a brow (it was impressive how expressive Derek’s eyebrows could be when his entire face was covered in fur) as if to ask ‘are you serious’. “What, I can be trustworthy!”

“You’re my prisoner.”

Huh, he’d somehow managed to sort of forget that. Was that bad? “Proxy prisoner; _I_ didn’t actually do anything. Besides I totally saved your furry ass didn’t I?” After a long moment Derek groaned as if he was going to regret this (ha, the sound of victory!)

That was how Stiles discovered that his sourwolf was actually a werewolf.

\--

“So let me get this straight. You,” Stiles said pointing at Derek. “Are actually human. Well, okay, sort of human. Half human?”

“Werewolf,” he corrected, and if he was anyone else Stiles was sure he’d be rolling his eyes. “but I have a human form, yes.”

Stiles nodded, trying to wrap his mind around it all. “And then some psycho cast a spell and trapped you in your wolf form?” There was clearly more to _that_ part of the story than Derek was telling him, but Stiles was pretty sure that if Derek talked much more today his head would explode. Derek nodded. “So how do we break the spell?”

“We?” Derek blinked at Stiles, sounding surprised.

“Well yeah. I mean it’s not like I have anything better to do.” And he was incredibly nosey, but he wasn’t going to mention that part. “So how do we fix you?”

“I…” Derek hesitated, looking extremely uncomfortable; an impressive feet for a six foot something wolfman. “I don’t actually know.” He finally admitted.

“Wait, seriously?” he asked eyebrows shooting up.

“Well it wasn’t like she stuck around to explain what she’d done.” Derek snapped at him.

Huh, that kind of explained a lot about Derek. Stiles couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to suddenly be cut off from such a big part of yourself with no idea how to get it back. It’d be like if Stiles lost an arm, or worse, the ability to talk. No wonder Derek seemed angry all the time. “Well lucky for you I am like a master researcher.” Stiles sat up straighter in his seat preening slightly. He might not have been great with a bow like Allison, or guns like Jackson but give him some books and he was golden. 

Oh. 

Right, they kind of needed books. Stiles deflated “Except I don’t have any books with me and I don’t think the book shop back in down would even _have_ books on magic.”

“We could always check the library.”

“Library?” Stiles asked, perking up instantly. “Wait you have a _library?_ ”

“It’s in the east wing.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Stiles jumped from his seat and rubbed his hands together in a way that would in normal circumstances have sent Scott hiding from him before Stiles could drag him on another adventure. Even if there wasn’t much in Derek’s library there probably wasn’t anywhere more likely to have the kind of books they needed.

\--

“Can I just sleep in here from now on? _Please?_ ” Stiles gaped. This room was bigger than his _house_ and absolutely every inch of it was covered in books. “You wouldn’t even need to move my bed; I could sleep in one of those arm chairs. Hell, I’d sleep on the floor if I had to.” Stiles couldn’t stop looking at everything. It was just…Stiles had never imagined ever seeing a place like this in his lifetime, and not just the library but just all of it. He was in an enchanted castle, trying to help a cursed werewolf get his human form back, how had this become his life?

“Should I give you a moment alone with the library?” 

Stiles froze and spun around to look a Derek. “Did you just make a joke? Oh my God you did! Progress sourwolf, you are making serious progress!” Stiles couldn’t stop grinning and he swore Derek almost looked amused. He was still all stony faced of course, but Stiles could see it in his eyes. The eyes never lied; which reminded Stiles of why they were here in the first place. “I’ve never seen this many books before in my life.” Stiles admitted, still a little bit in wonder of it all. “I’m not really sure where to start.”

“I think there’s some kind of reference log around here somewhere.” Derek frowned, looking around. “My sister alwa—“ Derek stopped talking midsentence, face completely shutting down. Stiles opened his mouth, but no words came out. Derek had a sister? But then where…oh. 

_Oh._

Stiles knew that look. It was the look that Stiles’ dad got on his face anytime his mother came up and his dad was sober. Silence hung in the air, and Stiles didn’t know how to break it. Anytime anyone had ever tried to comfort Stiles about his mom’s death the words had always felt cheap and hollow. Apologies could never bring her back, and they certainly didn’t do anything to make Stiles feel better. He couldn’t imagine they’d help Derek much either.

“I need to go.” Derek said suddenly, and Stiles didn’t try to stop him. Stiles stood alone in the library for a moment before rolling up his sleeves and getting to work looking for that index. He might not know how to comfort someone, but this he could do. He could research. Stiles hoped that could be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where the sad ending came from! I swear I meant to end this chapter with a cute library scene D:


End file.
